The Way Things Happen
by Zohh
Summary: Brittany knows Santana; she knows everything.  Spoilers for season three premiere.


**Author's note: **HI GUYS THIS HAS SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON THREE PREMIER OKAY BYE. ALSO THIS WAS WRITTEN RATHER QUICKLY AND ALMOST IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE PREMIER SO YEAH OKAY BYE FOR REALSIES.

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><p>When Santana had left the choir room, she walked in long, swift strides, trying to move as fast as possible without actually running; she didn't want to draw too much attention to herself. The lockers were blurred in her vision as tears hung threateningly by the corners of her eyes, and she was finally able to blink them back when she burst out the front door of the school. There was no warm sunlight to welcome her, no chirping birds to ease her mind, and no warm breeze to calm her. The metal doors of the school slammed shut with a bang, and all she was met with was an overcast sky and dingy humidity.<p>

Santana looked around at her surroundings: there were a few kids cutting class early in the parking lot and the track team was running in a line around the school. Everything else seemed empty.

She turned on her heel and followed the track team, jogging behind them before turning towards the football field. She pushed past the rusting gate and ducked under the bleachers, wanting to be as far away from people as possible.

"What are you doin' here, J-Lo?"

Santana took in a deep breath, hardening her outer shell, and glared at the smoking girl. She glanced around and saw Quin, sporting her pink hair and lone, dangling earring. "There are your new friends? Really, Fabray?"

Quinn bit her lip, tipping her cigarette so that ash could fall off from the bottom of it. "C'mon guys," she said in her unnaturally low voice. "Let's get out of here."

The three other girls followed her, each of them dropping their cigarettes do the ground and stepping on them with their toes before leaving. Quinn didn't even bother to look back.

Santana sighed. This wasn't how senior year was supposed to go. She was supposed to be the top bitch at the school, feared by all and loved by Brittany. She was supposed to be the Head Cheerio and take solos away from Berry and win two national championships before hightailing out of Lima to do bigger and better things. It wasn't her fault that Mr. Shuester and Coach Sylvester hated each other.

Santana leaned her head against the cool metal of the bleacher, careless as to how disgusting and full of germs it was. _The was not okay_.

She sat there, huddled on the ground with her arms around her knees and her Cheerios skirt riding up her waist for what seemed like hours. School had surely let out out by now, and Cheerios practice would be starting soon. One the bright side, Santana thought, perhaps Coach will bump her up to solo captain now that she was no longer a part of the glee club.

"Hi."

Santana looked up to see Brittany, her blonde hair pulled back and clad in a deep purple jumper. "What are you doing here, Britt? Shouldn't you be singing with the glee club?"

"We finished our song. I left right after 'cause I wanted to see you. I hated it." Brittany shuffled her feet on the ground, kicking a tiny rock.

Santana studied the girl standing before her, and shook her head. "No you didn't. It was awesome and you had fun singing and dancing."

Brittany looked down. "How do you know?"

"Because I _know_ you. Duh."

"I know you, too." Brittany met Santana's eyes from the ground. "I know that you love glee club, and that as mad you are at Mr. Shue for kicking you out you're also mad at Coach for making you blow up the piano. I know that you wish you could be wearing purple right now and hanging out in the choir room with Tina and Mercedes. I know that you really want to cry right now, too, but you're trying to be brave and act like you don't care. I know you too, San."

Santana's lip quivered. "I _hate_ him!" she hissed, clenching her fists. "Who is he to say that I'm not loyal to the club?"

Brittany frowned. She hated it when other people got upset, especially Santana. She sat down on the ground next to the Latina, stretching her legs out in front of her. She placed a hand on Santana's bare knee, leaving it there as a gesture of comfort.

"Britt," Santana said, her voice low and watery, "I...I want to be in glee club. I can't _not _be in it."

"I know," Brittany said. She moved her hand from Santana's knee, taking hold of the other girl's pinky instead. She used her own free hand to wipe away the stream of tears on Santana's face, stroking the darker cheek with the pad of her thumb. "I know."

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><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>I hate William Shuester. I swear to God, this had better be fixed and Santana better be back in the club by next week or else someone's gonna' get beaten up, Lima Heights Adjacent style.**  
><strong>


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